The U Turn 01:33
Maybe she did owe somebody an apology.
It was inevitable, she thought to herself in the Taxi, that some moonlighters are more credible than others. Like herself, was she for real? Like the pirate cabbie, was that really an actor, or a character? Some details didn't sit right with her even on the back seat of the cab. It was one particular moment of resistance in the evening that gave her pause. She understood he had lines he had to recite, professionally, but he seemed natural enough. Then to her impulsive request to improv on her day off, he suddenly said no patronizingly (I can't do that;) winking to soften the blow. This after sending her various clips from his performances.
She had no reason to think it would be an imposition. She wasn't one to let herself be whisked around like a petticoat from costume party to costume party by just any party. No sir. This one called her Mi'Lady and spent so many vigils with her after midnight that she K'nighted him. He even gallantly offered to be her alarm guard, when she confided that she was having trouble keeping her six am engagements with their two am bedtime. Her situation had changed with new appointments, and consequently new address, and obligations. She had to be at one manor or another by seven to get the households ready by eight (dressed, toileted, and breakfasted). The schedule maintained even on weekends for rigor of the dignitaries. And when not attending to these, she was dusting the archives in their community study hall or ensuring the continuity of their pupils in nearby schoolyards.
Between all these appointments, she of course hailed the cab. And at the end of the day, somewhere between ten and eleven o'clock she finally dropped herself at her kitchen table. Hearing the last train leaving, she'd open her lap dog and make sure all her x's and t's were crossed like at a marginally operating, but still dangerous (potentially), railway stop. Since she had prepped mentally throughout the day, the whole operation took about an hour and a half, after which she dozed off in the bathtub, and upon crawling out shivering she slept on the floor in a sleeping bag, because the cats had already taken their positions in the bedding shelf proper.
And so, to continue when he refused to invent with her, instead of practicing his script, she took it as a red flag, against his Noble character. She was stung by the puzzle and tried her best to shake it off. Something didn't fit right, and maybe it was her own outfit. Looking back, she didn't fault him. He had characters. It was an overwhelming load for any one creator to carry.